Rear Window
by ClockworkScales
Summary: Renesme has finally realized that she is in love with Jacob, and so begins her plan to seduce him... Only, it doesn't seem to be working! One-shot.


My name is Renesme. I'm seventeen years old.

I don't normally write on sheets of paper contained in hard-back book-covers, but I need to confine in you, dear book. I have worries I must put out in the open, or at least in a place which is not my troubled mind. I will not draw a picture in anybody's mind, for this is a secret none should know.

It is a secret I've discovered to cause a small ache in my throat when I speak, a quickened pace of heart, perhaps even a flush of the face which causes small beads of sweat to appear on my upper lip. It is a feeling I have not experienced in this life-time, but I have read enough and seen enough to know what it is. A crush. Dare I admit myself to even loving? Such a feeling I have felt for my mother and father, my family, but none of the same polarity, nothing of the same type. This dull ache in my chest, I didn't realize what it meant at first. In all honesty I thought I had contracted a lung-disease, but if that were the case, I'm sure Alice would have alerted me of the fact.

By writing on this lined paper with an ink pen in my neatest writing, I am carefully laying out my thoughts and feelings, and by doing so, they become clear. I realize it now. The feeling is a warm beacon when he is near, and a tugging force when he is away. My thoughts are plagued with memories of our conversations, our times together; in fact, we've known each other our whole lives that only the throngs of adolescence could bring such emotions to surface, to form, to develop.

I will write this once, and only once. I will write it and then I will tear out this sheet of paper and burn it before any can read it. I will keep the secret safe. And it is time, dear book, dear paper, that I must tell you of it now.

I am in love with Jacob Black.

He is a werewolf and he was a father-figure when I was younger, thus a tender heart. He was like an uncle as I grew and he became an older brother to me in the older years of childhood, then a friend entering the early teenage years. But now, Jacob is closer to me more than ever, his figure having changed from father to friend... Now, alas, in my eyes, it is more than that. The image is carved so delicately in my mind; the dark hair, which he seldom ruffles when he's nervous, upset or angry; the muscular figure, teeming with a careful bulk. But it is a gentle strength, his arms are gentle when around me, they do not crush me, though I do not doubt he has that strength. His skin is tanned and glows in voluptuous sunlight... He is kind, and friendly, and gentle. However, moving on from my desperate, lengthy narrative, I plan to ask him on a date. I only hope it will go as planned... I -

'What are you writing?' asks a voice and I jump in alarm, quickly snapping the book shut as the figure kneels beside me. Carlisle Cullen, a vampire and father figure to many of us. 'What are you doing indoors on such a nice day?' he says, and I notice a gleam in his eye and I know he read what I wrote. He makes no mention of it, however, and I think I am safe. 'It's a Saturday. Edward and Bella are outside enjoying the sunlight.'

'Hmm...' I say, and I tear out the page of the leather-bound book and scrunch it into a tight ball, shoving it in my jeans pocket, creating an unnatural bulge in the fabric. 'What are they doing outside?'

'Waiting for Jacob to arrive I suppose,' Carlisle shrugs amicably and sits down next to me, though I hide my face behind my hazelnut hair.

I always liked Carlisle. He talks to me like I'm his equal, and I appreciate that, but right now...

'Do you want to see Jacob?'

Right now he knows. And he _can't_ know.

'Carlisle,' I say, and my voice reaches a tinkling high pitch as I speak. 'Don't tell anybody what you read. Please?'

Carlisle smiles and he looks just as handsome as he always was. I mean this in a strictly non-sexual manner. He is attractive, however, he is my grandfather in the clan, technically speaking, and incest is not a cheerful prospect.

'Of course I won't,' he says, putting a finger to his lips. And then, with a small nod, he's gone, speeding out of my bedroom in a speedy flash.

'Nessie!'

A voice shouts to me and it echoes through the large, elegant house. But why do I describe the voice as merely a voice? It is the fuel for my drive, the pollen of my flower, my sweet Jacob's voice. 'Are you in your bedroom again? Come on! You can't live in there!'

His thundering footsteps climb the stairs and I take the ball out of my pocket and throw it into the roaring fire next to my bed. The paper curls and burns and just as he enters the room, I feel secure as it is now reduced to ashes.

'Hi Jacob,' I say and I jump to my feet.

'Wearing jeans again?' Jacob raises an eyebrow, 'I keep telling you to wear a dress for once! Or at least a skirt?'

His eyes gleam and fly across my hips and legs, though, his gaze has no sexual-intent.

'Why should I wear a dress or skirt?'

'It's more... lady-like. You're a lady. It's logical,' he shrugs and looks around my bedroom, grinning. 'Oh, I see you put up the posters I gave you.'

'I find them appealing to look at,' I say simply and he nods in approval.

As early at one and a half years old, Jacob brought me into his garage and showed me how to deal with mechanics. For this I'd wear jeans, because it's most practical when you're changing tires and tightening gears, changing your position all the time. Plus, it was sweaty work. I'd probably ruin the dresses, Alice would kill me.

Jacob had given me posters of cars such as a '67 Ford Mustang, '74 Ford Landau, and even a '70 Plymouth Barracuda.

'So will you come downstairs? The bloodsuckers are there. I think it'd be easier to deal with them you were there with me,' he winks and I grin, showing all of my perfect teeth. And, alas, I call them perfect teeth because it's what Jacob's been telling me for the past seventeen years of my life.

'Wait,' I say suddenly, just as he turns around.

'Yeah?'

I roll the words in my mouth before I let them slide off my tongue, 'Want to go to the movies tonight?'

'Sure,' Jacob smirks and gives me the thumbs up. 'Will you wear a dress?'

'Since you're asking so politely,' I joke and pretend to give him a curtsy. This was the easy part, I knew he'd say yes; we went to the movies frequently and hung out a lot so this was not in the slightest an anomaly.

Then we go downstairs.

What happened downstairs is not very important in this story.

We all go hunting together, Jacob following me closely with those protective eye, Edward and Bella shooting each other warning looks and Bella looking from me to Jacob with what looked like weariness and caution. I did not understand what she was worried about, however, but the deer I caught moments afterward was scrumptious. The meat was juicy and squishy and I sunk my teeth into it with ease, then there was the pour, the constant flow of rich blood, the tinge of iron. As I drink from the deer's neck, snapping its bones in the process, my eyes flicker up to Jacob and, as it always seemed to happen; his eyes were filled with an odd disdain. I knew he didn't like vampires, but... Well, perhaps he still wasn't used to watching me feed. But I wasn't forcing him to stay!

Jacob and I decide to meet later that night, around eight o'clock, at the La Push movie theater. We poured over a newspaper and they were playing Alfred Hitchcock movies as a marathon. Jacob let me decide which to go to so I chose to watch Rear Window. Neither of us had seen the film before.

He picks me up at eight and when he opens the door, his mouth gapes. His eyes scan my neck, my shoulders, the curves of my breasts which, though small, still had a devilish allure, then down to my stomach, hips, legs, which were slender, and then finally, to my feet.

I'm wearing a glamorous red dress and it tugs at my body, showing off my boyish figure. Alice had instructed me to wear the red dress, and I saw, that she knew what my intentions were. She knew the best course of action. She tried to get me to wear a pair of high heeled stilettos, but I felt more at ease in a pair of green converse. Alice had told me that the red dress would bring emphasis to my rosy cheeks and lips.

With the red and green put together, I looked like a Christmas decoration… but I was Jacob's Christmas decoration.

'You weren't lying about that dress,' he says. Then he smiles and holds out his hand. I take it and we walk to a dark blue Corvette he parked in the driveway, the trees towering over us like authoritative, disapproving librarians.

I am happy to be holding his hand, though, the problem is... that he was holding my hand in a friendly way. My insides churn as I sit in the car and click my seat belt together. Jacob jumps in the car and starts the engine. 'It's a nice sound, isn't it? I just got installed it for this new customer...'

'Should you be driving somebody else's car?' I ask with a sigh of exasperation.

'No,' Jacob says, putting his hands on the steering wheel. 'But I am.'

And with a zoom we drive off into the night. As we drove I observed his shirt, which he normally kept partly unbuttoned. I noticed it had been buttoned up just for the occasion.

Jacob buys popcorn and we sit down in the back of the cinema where we wouldn't attract attention; Jacob is really big and I'm not the most normal looking girl. We finish the popcorn during the advertisements and I wipe my hands on the chair next to me whilst Jacob leaves to put the box in the bin. The movie flickers to a start and as the credits roll over an image of opening blinds, I turn to Jacob.

'Looking forward to it?' I ask. I enjoy watching classic films and I am excited to observe Hitchcock's film making procedures. Jacob's face is blank.

'Don't know. I've never seen it, have I?'

'I suppose that's true.'

And then I, yes, I really did! I put my hand on his arm which was resting on the arm rest. He blinks. Nothing.

I feel myself becoming filled with a steady frustration, increasing by the second, and although I vowed I would pay attention to the movie, I had also vowed to put my Jacob-plan into motion. I carefully lift my tiny hand off of his arm and bring it to his face. First my fingertips touch... then _mes doigts_ - french for my fingers - then my palm. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

'_Nessie! _Must you do this now? You wanted to watch this movie, didn't you?' Jacob suddenly snaps and his attention to the movie falters as he turns to me with a sudden brutality. My hand retreats in fright and I place it in my lap, my face flushing, my eyes looking from his left eye to his right in fright, reading his expression. He is irritable.

'What's wrong?' I ask in a hurt voice, barely more than a whisper, but he hears every word. He heard every word.

And he still ignores me.

Unwanted tears fill my eyes and aches my throat, my lips pout in forlorn sadness. But I force it back. I am a strong girl.

You're vulnerable because these feelings are new to you, that's all it is...

As the pictures flash on the screen and the few other people in the cinema (mostly old people) got up to leave to the bathroom occasionally, the machinery in the room behind us buzzes and hums. I find great comfort in it. The films could still run without interruption, even though their viewers took breaks, at least, not Jacob and me.

The sadness I feel I did not fully understand until later in the film. The character Jeff rejects Lisa and she is annoyed, she's sad, she feels dejected. She is heartbroken. Only for a moment though, there was a weakness in her spirit, and I realize, I realize that's what's happening to me, was happening to me. How could my darling Jacob be so cruel? How could he be so unkind, especially after all we've been through together? I know he has been upset with other people, I've seen it, he told me about it, but whenever he was with me... he was always happy. He was blissful. He told me I was his sunshine; he told me I was his darling, his beautiful, and the gorgeous offspring of my vampire parents. The "leeches" he said, the "blood suckers" he said. I tolerated him, yes, I did. I really did.

I take a deep, shuddering breath and find I cannot fully concentrate on the film. As the tension of the film rose as each character sneaks to the murderer's room, I feel it on other people like dust attracted to fabric subject to an electrical charge. I sense it everywhere in the room, except on me and Jacob. All I feel is withering sorrow, and a furious burning to slap Jacob in the face.

I sniff and my eyes fill with salty liquid and then I feel Jacob's hand on mine. I look at him through my wavering vision and his face is kind and gentle. My darling Jacob, I love you.

'Nessie? What's wrong? Don't cry.'

He pushes up the armrest and gathers me in his arms. My breasts press against his chest and my arms wrap around his waist. I curl around him like the child I am and he holds me against him. We look like a couple. I choke and tears fall down my hot cheeks into his shirt. I feel his hand against the back of my head as he strokes my hair and caresses my arm in hopeful comfort.

'I'm sorry if I was a jerk before. I'm sorry if I ever am. Remember that's it's never your fault. It never is. It's all my fault, I'm a big mess.'

And then I feel something wet on my head and I knew in that moment, in a small, surprised moment, that he was crying too.

I long to wipe those tears away, but he holds me against his chest, perhaps wishing that I don't see his face.

We sit like that the rest of the movie and as it came to its climax, the flashing light-bulbs going off on screen, temporarily blinding the audience as well as the killer, as the character, the hero hangs from the ledge of the building... I gasp, and my head turned towards the movie screen as he fell. In that moment, in a quick, desperate, fleeting moment, I push myself up and look into Jacob's face. His cheeks are stained with tears and in the flickering of pictures, colour, and light from the movie screen, the stream lines lit up and his eyes flash.

But he does not turn away, he does not move, he does not flinch, and in that moment, slowly – so slowly - or so it feels to me, I bend my head forward and bring my hands up to the sides of his face, his warm face with the slightest trace of stubble. I feel the trail of wetness and smudge it like paint and then I bring my face forward, towards him, closer and closer, until I kiss him.

I am never going to forget this moment. Well, technically, I will never forget any moment, but I will cherish this one in particular.

His lips are soft, and as my mouth folds and melds against his own, he does not kiss back. The kiss lasts only a split second; for I only wish to express my desires, express my feelings in a way he would understand.

And, oh, as I draw away and stare into his eyes, I know he understands, and I know, though I can not see, that he feels something. I think he is going to strike out at me again, or, in a vain hope, I dream he scoops me into his arms and kisses me, but to my disappointment, he does not.

As the end credits roll and we sit in the silence, the lights slowly filling the cinema with a comfortable yellow glow, I sit, staring at the screen as the old people leave their seats and toddle out of the room. I wipe my tears and turn to look at Jacob.

He is not moving.

Not a muscle, not even blinking, he does not move at all. And as he does not move, I hold my breath and we did not leave until a film usher stood behind me and said, 'Go on, kids, the movie's over. Time to leave. I have to clean this place, you know.'

Then Jacob stood and walked straight out, ignoring me completely!

In that moment I understood my mum's annoyance at Jacob. He sometimes irritated her and I did not understand why at the time because he had always been such an angel to me. But now, now he was showing his true colours, and for what reason, I didn't understand why. I was his...

But before I could finish the sentence I get up and speed after him, my converse making small scratching noises against the carpet.

I find him standing outside the cinema in the light of the shops. It had rained during the film and the ground shone with leftover rain. The air is filled with a chill and small breeze. I approach Jacob and stand next to him, staring out at the car park. I see the Corvette against the few cars which remained, lit from the lamp posts. The lines of the car park shine and glimmer, creating a pattern which annoys me. Cars get to sit side by side and not care if they waver in silence!

'Jacob,' I say, and I slip my hand into his and squeeze it. No reaction. I drop my hand. 'I'm sorry...'

Still no reaction.

'Jacob...' I moan, and my throat aches again and my eyes fill with tears. Before I know it they are splashing down my front, down my cheeks, down my neck and into the front of my dress. I choke and sob into my hands, my shoulders shuddering.

I have never felt so alone, so sad, so confused. I hate it.

'Jacob...' I cry, and I sniff loudly and wipe my nose on the back of my hand, 'Jacob, my darling... please... speak to me...'

He turns to face me and it sends chills down my spine, a chill of alarm, dull hope and excitement. His eyes are sad, but behind the sadness... I know he was hiding something more. He does this sometimes... and usually I can ease that feeling out of him... And just then, I knew I could do it again.

I lift my trembling hands to his face and send an image into his mind. I know it is a dangerous image. I know this could ruin Jacob and I forever, but this is what I need to do.

The picture is something I had seen in a dream of mine. Jacob and I were holding hands on La Push beach and staring out to the ocean, the day sunny and bright, the seagulls calling, a beautiful, perfect moment. And we were happy together. And then, Jacob was laughing and he pulled me up into his arms and held me, held me close, held me tenderly, and then he pressed his lips to my own and we kissed passionately, a fire burning so fiercely inside us both, the same flame, the same feelings, the same emotions, the same...

And then I pull my hands off. I would be ashamed to show him any more. I do not want to reveal to him my first dream involving the magical bonding of spirits, of naked bodies... That would...

I look into Jacob's eyes and then, everything happens to fast! I am knocked off my feet.

His lips are on mine and they move together with a hot fury, a powerful reverence, and I have a strange feeling that this had been knotted up inside of him for years... Our mouths both taste of the salty goodness of popcorn and as my tongue brushes over his lips, something inside of me jolts as a growl escapes Jacob's throat and our mouths open and press against each other. It is a brilliant, marvelous feeling. I never thought my first kiss would be so exciting. I am clumsy at kissing. I am very clumsy, and I hesitate and break apart for a second to catch my breath and to give my mind a moment to catch up with the present. But Jacob guides me. He had always done that. He helped me with so much, with anything I wanted to do from a child up till now. He is my everything. He taught me things, he showed me things, and now... All those childish dreams evolved into this mingling desire, this _feeling_, and it's amazing.

It is impossible for me to describe the moment with words, as pictures has always been my strong point, but in that moment, I feel both free, alive and more grown up than I have ever felt in my entire life.

Our tongues lash and meet, exchanging secrets and pleasures and when we drew away, a chill breeze crosses between us and I feel wetness on my mouth. I bring my hand to my lips and, feeling sub-conscious all of a sudden, wipe it away. I observe it glisten in the light.

Jacob pants and my chest is heaving too. His eyes, that feeling that had come to the surface, I know what it is now. I can see it clearly. It has been repressed for years and now it is on show for the whole world to see. Oh, Jacob, my Jacob, who knew?

'I need to tell you something,' Jacob whispers, and he takes a step forward and takes my hands in his own. He bends down and stares deep into my eyes. I can see both the werewolf and the man inside. 'I need to tell you the truth... I need to be honest with you... I...' he takes a deep breath 'I imprinted on you.'

I know the implications of imprinting, but I don't believe it. I think it is merely him getting ahead of himself.

'You can't know that...'

'But I do. I have. For seventeen years. Ever since I first saw you,' Jacob says, and though he spoke quickly, I catch every word of it. 'I hated you for what you did to your mum. You had ruined her, I had thought. I thought you had killed her. And I was ready to kill you. But then I saw you,' his face lights with a glimmering sparkle and he kisses me on the cheek. 'I love you, Renesme. I love you more than anything in the whole world. I imprinted on you, you're the center of my universe. You complete me.'

Such deepness is uncommon for Jacob, though I know he saved it just for me.

'Jake...' I breathe and I take his face in mine again and stare. 'I didn't know... I should have known... My parents - Bella and Edward - they told me you hadn't imprinted yet...'

'They lied,' Jacob grimaces. 'I know why they did it and they were right, but now, I think now was the right time to tell you.'

'Oh, no,' I murmur and my eyes dart to the ground before flickering to Jacob's again. 'What will they say...? What will they do...?'

'I think they already know...' Jacob murmurs. 'I have a feeling they already know. Alice can see the future. She may not have seen us but I think... I think she felt it. I think she felt it and I think she told the other bloodsuckers...'

'Don't call them that. I told you not to. I love them.'

Jacob pulls me into his arms and I feel warm and safe.

'I know. I'm sorry. But vampires are bloodsuckers...' he pats my head, 'but... from now on, I'll call them vampires. How does that sound to you?'

I smile into his chest and we sway in the cool breeze, in the sweet outdoors of La Push. But then, more worry creeps into my heart.

'What if she didn't tell them though? How do we tell them?'

'We can tell them... You can tell them,' he squeezes my hand and although the words sound selfish, they aren't, because I know he would be there to encourage me. As he always did.

'You can tell them with pictures.'

And we walk to the Corvette, hand in hand, my converse slapping on the wet asphalt, Jacob's boots tapping the ground, and we march.

* * *

**A/N: I got the writer's bug and I had to write this story. This plot has probably been used a lot, but I haven't read any Twilight fanfiction - actually, I've read one - so I'm not all informed about what's been done and what hasn't. I tried writing in a type of narrative and I tried to write like Anne Rice with her "elegant prose" but maybe I'm being too hopeful. **

**This would have been up before but I had to fix the tenses and I'm not even sure if those are fixed properly! I know I said I was going to write my original fiction - and in fact, I've written one - it needs to be edited. As well, as when I was on holiday all week, I wrote three other original fiction - all science fiction and once I type them up and edit them, they'll be on my FictionPress account. **

**Thanks for reading!  
**


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